Mirabelle Apres
by Dark Peppermint
Summary: Seraphs, demons, and fluffy rabbits, oh my! After a strange 'romance' and depression, Mirabelle is determined to make those around her happy, if she can't be. HP/DM slash. Mentions of cutting. *sob* please...R&R!!!! OC/TR, Mira/OC femslash, R/H
1. Mirabelle Antérieurement

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Except for Mirabelle and her siblings. I don't own the settings other than Mirabelle's house and hometown. I don't own the original Harry Potter story. I don't own the movie (in any way, shape, or form) but I do own the twisted little ways I screw up these people's lives. Please don't sue me. I have no money. All I have are two teeny bitty doggies, a cat, a guinea pig, and a chab (chow/lab). And some sketchbooks. But you can't have them.  
  
Notes 'n stuffs: I will finish this. I promised myself. I have about a bazillion stories that I haven't finished yet, but I have been working on them a little bit sporadically. That is to say, about a paragraph per story, per 4-6 months. Pathetic? Of course. Oh yeah. About the French I've used: if you want to know what it means, just go to http://translator.dictionary.com/text.html. That's where I got it. It's really easy.  
  
Mirabelle Après  
  
  
  
Once there was a girl named Mirabelle. She lived in a tiny, cozy cottage in the woods of the French countryside with her younger sister and baby brother. The little house was covered in ivy, and had moss all over it's roof, so it looked like it had just popped out of the ground, pretty and white underneath. Most of the time, you could find Mirabelle in the front of the house, feeding wild deer or tending to her siblings. When they could, they tried to go to school, but of late, the school had started to refuse them, as they weren't registered. So they stayed at home, doing laundry, cutting wood, and basically just taking care of the home. Since their parents had died, Mirabelle took full responsibility; she was like a new mother to Melodie and the yet infantile Olivier.  
  
Now, being only half-past-ten, the girl was accomplishing quite a feat by taking care of a six year old and ten month old. Sometimes Belle, as her sister called her, told fortunes using her mother's Tarot, her own crystal ball, or simply reading palms. Her customers were thrilled with the uncanny accuracy of the young girl's readings, but spiteful little children who came with their parents or older brothers or sisters spread nasty rumors. While it was true that Mirabelle was a witch, having been raised in an actively practicing family, and it was true she performed rituals and spells, and had herbs hanging from ceilings, it was not true that she did evil of any sort. One boy, jealous of Mirabelle's talent, told everyone he knew that he had seen her talking to the devil in her fireplace. Of course, anyone who really knew Belle saw right through the lie, but others shunned her. This hurt her a bit, but she carried on, using her profits to buy food and other necessities.  
  
As the months passed, Melodie fell ill. Any remedy Mirabelle knew could not cure her sickness, and the small family had no money to buy medicine with. Melodie would surely die if they could not get help. Then, on May 13, Mirabelle's birthday, a letter arrived. It was strange, really. A large, tawny brown owl delivered it. It contained a letter, and a glass vial with pretty green liquid inside it. The letter invited her to a school in England called Hogwarts. Now, we all know that Beauxbatons is the magical school of France, but because the school wouldn't provide accommodations for the two younger children, and Mirabelle would never allow herself to be separated from them, Hogwarts accepted her instead. They would take care of Melodie and Olivier while Belle was at school, but it was back home for all three when summer came. Of course, Mirabelle was going to go, but what about Melodie? And where would she get her supplies? Luckily, the school knew all about her situation, and not only sent her school things, train ticket, and a Portkey to King's Cross, but a neat little necklace that would allow her to speak and understand English!  
  
On September first, at nine o' clock in the morning Mirabelle and her two siblings were whisked away to King's Cross. Where they had now idea how to get onto the platform. Spotting a kind-looking woman with a ton of children and flaming red hair, she approached and said, "Excusez-moi, ma'am. Savez-vous obtenir sur des quarts de la plateforme neuf et trois?" Upon sighting the blank look on the woman's face, Mirabelle suddenly smacked herself on the forehead. "Merde d'Oh! J'ai oublié le collier!" She turned to Melodie and said, "Melodie, font sortir le collier de mon sac. C'est le choker noir de sild avec une broche de cameo là- dessus." Her sister reached into the leather satchel and pulled out the pretty black choker with a cameo brooch on it. Belle took it from her and put it on, then repeated, "Excuse me, ma'am. Do you know how to get onto platform nine and three quarters?" The woman smiled.  
  
"Of course, dear." She replied. "Hogwarts too? These boys are going. Shouldn't you be going to Beauxbatons, though? I thought you might be French, and Beauxbatons is a more reasonable school to go to, you know, being in the country." Mirabelle looked at the boys while telling Mrs. Weasley about the special circumstances. There was a tall, lanky one, two shorter, stouter boys who appeared to be twins, and another gangly one, only an inch shorter than the twins. They all had bright orange hair, like their mother. Then there was another, with wild chocolate hair and sparkling emerald eyes. Her eyes widened when she saw the last one. His small frame and delicate but boyish face was adorable, but made even more endearing by his round glasses. He smiled at her shyly.  
  
"Hi." He said.  
  
"H-Hello." Mirabelle returned, startled. "My name is Mirabelle. It's a pleasure to meet you.?" She trailed off as though to inquire his name.  
  
"Harry Potter." The boy supplied. The other boys looked at him, mouths gaping.  
  
"You're Harry Potter?!" they yelped. Harry nodded.  
  
On the train, Ron Weasley, the shortest one, came to sit with Harry and Mirabelle. Soon the three became close friends, and Hermione Granger joined them that October. They even remained friends when Mirabelle turned out to be a parseltongue (along with Harry) and it was found that she was heir to Salazar Slytherin. They stuck through all the strange mishaps and adventures, quarreling as was natural, but remaining close as ever. Odd how these things turn out.  
  
  
  
How's that for a first chapter? I know it's a little short, but it's just the beginning. Oh yes..You don't know what Mirabelle looks like yet, do you? Well, you'll just have to wait for the next chapter. In which they are attending sixth year. 


	2. Le Sang de la Belle Serpent

I think you can guess what I do and don't own. No warnings.well.mention of cutting and the slash is starting to be hinted at. Strangeness at hand!  
  
Le Sang du le Belle Serpentine  
  
Sitting in an abandoned compartment, Mirabelle watched streams of water cascading down the nearly invisible glass of her window as it poured rain outside. She sighed, absently tracing the many self-inflicted scars on her wrists. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't stop thinking about him, although she knew she was nothing to him.  
  
"I love you." she whispered into the air. Tears threatened to fall from her violet eyes as the girl recalled all that had happened between them last year. Belle had called him into the Astronomy tower to admit her love. He told her that she shouldn't waste her time. He could never love. Somehow, they ended up with a deep, passionate kiss that evening. Many evenings were spent in empty classrooms, making love until sunrise. But only a week before school ended, he had ended their relationship, telling her that although he didn't love her, he didn't want to see her hurt, so was breaking up with her. Belle thought herself foolish. Who was she to think that she could make him love her? How could she have hoped that they could be something more? Why did she think she had the right to be angry with him for this? He had warned her from the start. He had told her couldn't love her. They had kept it a secret for so long, she knew they couldn't continue. But her heart refused these thoughts. It was ripped into a million pieces, ground into dust and blown away into the cold, sharp wind. That summer, Belle's fragile spun sugar mask broke. And it bled. She bled. Day after day, when her tears could no longer express her heartache, her blood cried for her. Once, Melodie had come into the bathroom and saw Mirabelle bleeding into the sink. Belle told her she had accidentally cut herself, and not to worry. Now, at school, Mirabelle had to put the mask back on, but this time it was glass. It was still ever so fragile, but all the more sturdy than sugar that could melt, shatter or stick.  
  
Mirabelle's thoughts were interrupted when Harry, Ron, and Hermione came into the compartment, grinning and soaked. They sat down by her and continued their chatter for a moment before noticing the tears now sliding down their friend's face. Ron was laughing loudly moments after Hermione and Harry had fallen silent. Hermione glared at him. Harry went over and crouched down by the sad girl.  
  
"Oi, Mira. What's the matter?" He asked concernedly. Unlike the others, he preferred this nickname rather than Belle. She gave him a watery smile and wiped her eyes.  
  
"Nothing. I-I'm fine." Belle lied. There was no way she'd let them know. However, she didn't realize that her shirtsleeve had stayed up from when she had been feeling the scars.  
  
"What's this?" He asked, indicating the laced flesh. Mirabelle's pupils contracted as she looked up suddenly, pulling down her shirtsleeve.  
  
"N-It's nothing." She repeated. The others looked skeptical.  
  
"It doesn't look like nothing, Belle." Said Hermione. "If you're hurt, you can tell us. We're your friends. You can trust us." Hermione looked sincere, but Belle wasn't sure how the boys would handle it.  
  
"Hermione, I don't want to.It's personal." Mirabelle said. Hermione took her by the arm and led her away from the boys, then cast a Silence Bubble around them.  
  
"All right, now will you tell me?" Hermione asked kindly. The other girl glared sullenly for several minutes before reluctantly nodding. Then she began.  
  
"It all began in the third year. You see, there was this boy. He's not in our house, but he's in our year. Anyway, I started to like him. At first, I denied it, but then I started having these.dreams about him. And I noticed weird things, like how he always bites his lip when there's a tough problem. I talked to him a few times, but he was really cold to me. I still liked him, though, even in fourth year. Then in fifth year, I couldn't take it. I was head over heels in love with him. So I wrote him a note. I told him to meet me in the Astronomy Tower after supper. I was nervous at first but then I told him how I felt. I told him I loved him, and I had since third year. He told me he couldn't love." She paused, and Hermione jumped at the chance to speak.  
  
"He said he couldn't love you? Who is this guy?!" She exclaimed, indignant on Mirabelle's behalf. She held up a hand for silence.  
  
"I'm getting to that. He didn't say he couldn't love me. He said he couldn't love, period. He warned me, he said that I shouldn't get involved with him, for my own sake. I should've listened, but I'm glad I didn't. Anyway, that evening I kissed him, and we made out. The next week we were making love in empty classrooms. We even did it once in a regular classroom. I liked the thrill of the chance Professor McGonagall might walk in any second. That's beside the point. A week before school ended, he broke up with me. I knew he didn't love me. I knew I was just his little toy, but he said that he cared. He doesn't love me, but he cares! So when I went home, I couldn't take it any more. I didn't care whether or not he loved me. I just wanted to be near him. I cried and cried, and when I couldn't cry anymore, I bled." Belle's voice cracked towards the end. She rolled up her sleeves and showed both arms for evidence. "I still love him." She said quietly. Hermione looked torn between sympathy and horror.  
  
"You were cutting yourself? But.But. That jackass! Who is he?!" she demanded, but Mirabelle flared up.  
  
"See?! See?! This is why I didn't want you to know! I knew you be upset like this! And now you're going to hate Draco even more, when it's not even his fault! He warned me! I didn't listen! This is my fault! Don't you dare blame the boy for what his father's done to him!!!" She screamed at the shocked Hermione. She fell to her knees, sobbing. "I'm sorry." She whispered. The boys looked. Although they couldn't hear a thing, they knew it was something big. Mirabelle hardly raised her voice or had a temper. Hermione kneeled beside her and cradled her shaking form, stroking her hair comfortingly, the occasional tear slipping down her own face. Soon Mirabelle dried her eyes, and she stood, tall and straight despite her still slightly blotchy face. Ron looked worried still, but Harry gave Mira a big, warm hug. He kissed the top of her head, then whispered,  
  
"Care to tell me?" Her silky, maple brown hair muffled his voice. She nodded.  
  
"Ask Hermione." And so he did. When Hermione told him the whole story, the distress on his face was apparent. He whispered something back, and Hermione glanced at Belle before looking back toward him understandingly.  
  
Before they knew it, the school train lurched to a stop, and they filed off, one by one. Huddled together to ward off the freezing temperatures (though it had stopped raining) the four crammed into a horseless carriage, and off they went to Hogwarts. Ron was looking desperately from Harry to Hermione to Mirabelle, then back to Harry.  
  
"Somebody? Say something? Please? C'mon guys, can't you tell me?" He looked frustrated and confused. All of a sudden, Mirabelle burst out laughing. Ron was further perplexed, but he soon broke into a dazed grin. Harry and Hermione just stared at them like they had just grown extra heads or something. Mirabelle abruptly stopped and slowly, deliberately turned her head towards the two silent ones.  
  
"Laugh," she said in a commanding voice, her tone had a cold edge, "or I'll sick my fluffy pink bunny rabbit on you." She then shrieked and wriggled around making strange noises before finally leaning on Hermione, laughing until she thought she would puke. Harry cocked an eyebrow then began to chuckle, which soon turned into a full-fledged laugh. Hermione just looked scared.  
  
"Whoa!" they all exclaimed together in chipmunk-like voices as the carriage jerked to a halt.  
  
  
  
As soon as the Sorting ended, Mirabelle ran up to each of the new Gryffindors, slapped them lightly, and then screamed at the top of her lungs,  
  
"Le attaque du rose pelucheux lapin! L'horreur! L'horreur!!!" she frightened most of them, but one or two stared blankly, and one laughed. She liked the one who laughed. He seemed kind. Belle decided to keep him, and thusly tied him to a red leash.  
  
"There. Now you're my pet." She said with a wink.  
  
Across the hall sat a smirking, pale boy. Over the summer, Draco had dyed his hair black, with shocking red tips, and charmed it to grow out the same way. It looked incredibly good on him, bringing out the creamy color of his smooth skin. When he thought no one was looking, he dropped his false expression and left the Great Hall, looking back with dulled, melancholy eyes at two of the Gryffindor Four, as they had been dubbed. He knew it wasn't right. Last year he had convinced himself that he was dead inside. That no matter what, he couldn't feel. But this girl, this Mirabelle, showed him. He realized he cared for her, but she was not the one he longed for. Draco did love Mirabelle, but not as she loved him. He wanted Mirabelle to be happy.  
  
As the Slytherin boy made his way into the common room, he wondered why he did not love Mirabelle so romantically. As it was said before, he did love her. He loved her like.No, not a sister. More of a friend-type-person-thing- or-whatever. With a heavy sigh, Draco sank into the couch furthest from the fire. If only he hadn't tried to push her away. Damn Gryffindors! The more you warn them, the less they take heed. Of course, now that he had realized he could love, the one he truly wanted was unattainable. Harry Potter could never be his.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Whee! I'm having such great fun with this. Please tell me what you think; I can hardly stand the silence. What will happen? When do Siri and Remmy come in? How will Mirabelle treat Draco? All these answered and much more.throughout many chapters ahead. 


	3. Galatea et les Gryffindors

*points at JKR* She owns. Not me. Don't sue! I'm too young to diiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!  
  
  
  
  
  
Galatea and the Gryffindors.  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry sighed as he lay on his luxurious four-post bed, draperies shut. He had had no idea what Mirabelle went through in the last year. In part because he was too involved with Young and ChoAh, a pair of Korean girls who had come to Hogwarts in an exchange program. Young had a much better personality, but ChoAh was prettier, and distinctly resembled Cho Chang. He figured they might be cousins or something similar. Between the two, he was given very little time to spend with friends: ChoAh's constant flirting, and Young's kind, shy attraction left him dazed. Luckily, they weren't back this year. Yes, Harry enjoyed their company, but it was a little too overwhelming for him to handle all at once. Somehow it seemed that if he had been less preoccupied with the girls, Mirabelle wouldn't have come to this pain, this unbearable hurt.  
  
Now he was determined to find a way to fix it all. There must be a way to make it better! That damn Malfoy. All he ever does is hurt people, and now Mirabelle had fallen victim to his latest treachery. Suddenly, Harry realized something! All he had to do.yes.Make Malfoy hurt as badly as Belle did. That would be the solution. Revenge.  
  
  
  
In the dungeons, a pale, androgynously beautiful youth lay on his bed, staring blankly upwards. A nearly undetectable smile lightened his intense features as the thoughts fleeted through his mind. Smooth, fair skin, pink lips, emerald eyes.Silky, wild raven locks, and the scar.Harry. It seemed that everything dulled in comparison to him. Even the rarest, most stunning rose seemed harsh and ugly when stood next to the Boy Who Lived. He was so lovely and fragile, it was a wonder the slightest breeze did not shatter him; but not even that magnified a thousand times could break the most magnificent angel such as Harry was. Divinity cannot be destroyed, and to Draco, Harry was the most divine, worthy of godlike stature.  
  
With a blissful yet melancholy sigh, the Slytherin boy turned over onto his stomach. Of course, he had to fall in love with his worst enemy, and naturally he had to go and break the heart of one the best friends of his love. Those accursed gods of irony! Oh well.  
  
'And just how the hell did I let him convince me I didn't love!' Thought Draco furiously. 'That bastard calls himself my father.then again I probably couldn't have loved at that time. If it weren't for Belle, I dunno if I could even care at all. Why can't I just love Belle? She's nice, she's pretty, she's a girl.' He lay silent for a moment before a flash of understanding hit him. His eyes widened gruesomely for a moment before he opened his mouth wide.  
  
  
  
Mirabelle, Harry, Ron, and Hermione suddenly looked at each other.  
  
"Did you hear that?" asked Harry.  
  
"Sounded like a scream from the dungeons." said Mirabelle.  
  
"Maybe Malfoy's getting what he deserves." Ron replied. Mirabelle looked as though he had slapped her.  
  
"And just what does Draco deserve?" she asked softly. Ron's expression turned perplexed.  
  
"You just called him Draco. Since when is he Draco? And furthermore, we all know he deserves nothing less than a good kick up the arse." The redhead stated firmly. Suddenly Mirabelle's eyes seemed to pop out and she hid her mouth, shaking silently. Hermione and Harry looked concerned, while Ron continued looking like.well, Ron.  
  
"What's the matter?" Hermione asked gently. Mirabelle couldn't contain it any longer as she burst into howls of laughter.  
  
"I-I, well, okay. This is a secret but.Ha! Hehehe.. EEEEE. Okay.It's just that when Ron said that Draco needed a kick up the arse, I immediately thought, 'Yeah, but that's where he wants Harry.'" Her grin widened at the disgusted looks on their faces. Harry pulled a face.  
  
"Eurgh. You have got the nastiest mind, Mira. As if he even liked me anyway," said Harry. 'Although I wish he did.' Harry gasped in surprise. 'Where the hell did that come from?!' was his next thought as the raven- haired boy smacked himself in the forehead.  
  
The three watched amusedly as Harry's face twisted around into several expressions as he silently had a conversation with himself, often gesturing wildly. When he began to hop around like a bunny while gnashing his teeth, they started to edge away worriedly.  
  
  
  
~Later that evening~  
  
  
  
An outraged shriek came from the Slytherin commons, followed by three resounding thuds, echoing each other perfectly. Blaise Zabini rushed to get Draco, who lay as he had been for the past four hours.  
  
"Draco! Draco! Get up! There's trouble in the commons. These three new girls showed up and got in a fight with Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle!" he informed the once blonde boy as he dragged him to his feet. Draco groaned, finally blinking.  
  
"How many times do I have to tell those three to stop terrorizing the first years?" Draco muttered irritably. Blaise stopped and raised his eyebrows, looking at Malfoy intensely.  
  
"But they're the ones that're knocked out. And the girls aren't first year, either, judging by how they look. I'd say they're fifth or sixth." He said. "I though you might have known them, being Slytherin's head prefect." Draco shook his head just as they entered the common room.  
  
One girl had short, hacked off black hair and eerily pale eyes, another had shoulder length hair that resembled Mirabelle's, but dark indigo; she was very skinny, almost unhealthily so, and wore huge silver headphones that matched her all black apparel. The third girl looked like a model, with a small body but exuding power, and her waist-length silver hair streaked with icy blue was spiraled around her pretty but cold face.  
  
Despite past experiences, Draco was quick to judge by appearances. The first would be a tomboy, seeing as she wore baggy, bright orange boy's cargos and a pain, slightly fitted white t-shirt. The next was quiet, morbid, and artistic, because her black ribbed turtleneck showed concealment (How do you do that?) but when paired with a slender, barely trumpeted long skirt of the same color, it made for artistic elegance. He was quite accurate in that one. The last seemed that she would be not only the most feminine, but also the most normal. She wore an apparently expensive blood red silk shirt, which appeared to be finely tailored as it fit her perfectly. It was untucked over a pair of black wide-leg trousers with pinstripes in the same shade as her shirt. Stack heel loafers on her feet and a wide leather belt resting over her hips made her look even more like a model, and sophistication permeated her very being.  
  
Naturally, Draco was at least partially correct, which was expected as he had had much experience in such matters.  
  
Sidhe was the first to speak, coming towards Draco with two long strides, she grinned broadly and stuck out her hand.  
  
"Sidhe Menewathien Shivlomb, glad to meet ya." She said, shaking his hand firmly. Draco had the distinct impression that he knew her from somewhere, but couldn't think of where it might have been. His thoughts were interrupted as the blonde girl approached as though strutting down a catwalk. She gracefully put a slender, long-fingered hand out, palm up.  
  
"My name is Galatea Celestianne Fleurdeblanche. Your acquaintance is welcome." Her voice was deeper than Draco had been expecting, and it had a powerful, regal tone to it. She paused with her hand still out. Draco suddenly realized what to do, and kissed the pale olive flesh.  
  
Finally Voletta glided over with small, deliberately slow steps. Keeping her arms at hers sides, she softly stated, "Voletta Ophelia DuSang," before retreating back to her perch at the arm of the nearby sofa. Now that the newcomers were introduced, they looked at Draco expectantly, except for Voletta, who stared into the tiny blue flame she held in her palm.  
  
"My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy. It's a pleasure to meet you lovely ladies. I do hope to get along on at least fair terms with you all. If you would excuse me now, I have some business to attend to." He had expected the girls to just let him go, and they did, but Galatea's short nod suggested that she had authority to excuse the boy. He didn't like that. Nevertheless, he stepped over Pansy to revive Crabbe and Goyle. After enervating them, they stood, and Draco turned away to his room. When he looked behind to see what was keeping them, he saw them staring helplessly at him, while standing just in front of Galatea. "Come." He ordered. To his dismay, after the two thugs took a few steps, Galatea's cold voice commanded them to stay with her. And they did.  
  
Draco did not like her. Not one bit did he appreciate Galatea's actions, manner, or being. Sidhe was friendly enough, and she also seemed to side against Galatea, passionately arguing with her, as no one else would. Then again, Sidhe was passionate about everything. Voletta seemed to distrust Galatea, but she was very quiet and cold. Not cold like Galatea's frozen steel, Voletta was cold like Hell frozen over. She seemed to stay in her room all the time, although she sometimes sat in a plain, armless wooden chair in the middle of an empty room, staring into nothing. In just a week, Draco had fallen to second in command against Galatea. It was not as though they were different levels on the same scale though, it was more like a war in which one side had more power and support than the other.  
  
On the Gryffindor end, the Slytherins seemed the same. Had it not been for Sidhe and Voletta, Galatea would have made things much worse, but the two girls helped cancel out the negatives. So, while negative effects increased, so did the positive, making the status absolutely unchanging.  
  
But unchanged things could not remain, for late one night, one centaur looked away from the sky to gaze at his counterpart next to him.  
  
"The great change is soon upon us. Destined are the chosen to have their past as a future."  
  
  
  
  
  
How's that?! I liked it.Anyway, whaddaya think of the three new girls? They're OC's (obviously) from other HP fanfics I've been writing. However, I suddenly realized a couple of days ago that my stories were all so similar that I might as well just put my characters into one story. PLEASE REVIEW!!! I promise I'll love you forever! 


	4. Victoire de Voletta

Chapter four! Yay! Y'all know what I own and don't own. *sigh* Okay, okay, I own anything that's not canon to JKR's Harry Potter series. And everything else is the great goddess's. You know whom I mean.  
  
And all y'all homophobes can go boil your heads, 'cause this here story's got slash galore! Whee!  
  
Thanks y'all who reviewed. Well.All TWO of you.*sniff* well, thanks Bienfoy and Angel, it means a lot to me.  
  
  
  
Victoire de Voletta!  
  
Voletta leaned against the cold, damp stone wall outside Hogwarts, tapping her foot to the music she was currently listening to. Her head and torso were completely soaked; it was raining heavily. Any other students out of doors rushed about, trying to get under shelter as quickly as possible. Their red noses and thick, layered clothes bundled around them gave the impression of fat, ill penguins waddling across the school grounds.  
  
The mysterious girl sighed heavily, gazing through her long, dark lashes at the lake. She wondered how cold it was, and if the giant squid was awake. Naturally, the only way to find out was to test it.  
  
Now, Voletta was a very determined, but patient girl. She went with the flow, and seemed most passive, but really, she pulled every string. So if she wanted to swim in the lake, she'd swim in the lake. Sometimes, unfortunately, she was too minimalist and direct to take any extra precautions. As you can see, it was this characteristic that led to a rather strange, late-Autumn incident.  
  
Wading into the lake, fully clothed, Voletta paused for a moment to put a waterproofing charm on her CD player before diving underneath the surface. It was too cold to think, and an ordinary person would have been dead in less than five minutes.  
  
As you may have guessed by now, Voletta was no ordinary human. In fact, she wasn't human at all! She was a creature known as an archangel, though more commonly called a seraph. Due to the biblical relation, the seraph chose to keep her species secret. Voletta didn't know what she was, therefore couldn't tell anyone.  
  
Seraphs did not take well to heat, and much preferred cooler temperatures, so the frigid waters of the lake were just a little uncomfortable. Voletta never swam well as a human, but pressed on through the water, searching for the giant squid at the bottom.  
  
Everything seemed so blue and surreal. Icy water dyed everything, and it seemed as though one was wearing tinted lenses. So smooth and liquid; the ruins of an abandoned mer-city, distorted and waving, pressed in, reaching to enclose the trespasser.  
  
Dizzy from lack of air, and finally feeling the cold, Voletta momentarily thought of returning to the surface, but quickly brushed that thought away, and continued into darker, darker, and still darker waters of the lake. Slimy weeds, and things that felt like weeds, tangled around the ankles of the girl, but quickly released her, as though peasants recoiling from some royalty they had not recognized. After nearly twenty minutes, Voletta was numb, her vision blurring and clouding with white spots, and her lungs had long passed the stage of burning for air. Yet still she did not consider returning to the surface.  
  
Five minutes later, she was not sure if she was merely floating about aimlessly, or gliding slowly through the water. The girl didn't feel it when strong arms wrapped about her waist, and she was propelled away to the Mer-Kingdome. Only when Voletta was brought into a warm, air filled glass room did she realize it was a merman, not herself, speeding through the water.  
  
Within the room was a one armed couch, a small vanity, and a rug, all of which were beautiful, but worn and old, as though they had been salvaged form a sunken cruise liner. Which, Voletta reflected, was probably the case. On hooks on the outside wall there hung what looked like a red leash and harness. She could see no way out, except through a door above her, which was far too high to reach. Rather than jumping about, pounding wildly on the transparent walls as some other, less levelheaded person might have done, Voletta lay upon the pretty red velvet couch, and slept, listening to a melancholy song called 'Rain.' It was from her authoress' favorite show, Cowboy Bebop. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep.  
  
A loud pounding from above woke Voletta up. She opened her eyes to see the merman that had brought her here knocking on the door in the ceiling, grinning and holding the leash and harness. Apparently, she was to be some equivalent of a pet for the merpeople. This could not be, of course, and an escape plan immediately began to form. As soon as she got out of her 'cage,' Voletta took off, not allowing herself to be harnessed. It would seem that she had no chance, racing away from the swift merman, but a long, pinkish tentacle suddenly snatched her away from the fish-like man's reaching arms. Voletta found herself face-to-face with the giant squid; it was very much awake. Sensing that it was a very gentle, playful creature, she stretched out a hand to softly stroke the tender, squishy flesh of the tentacle that was holding her. A black-violet cloud of silken hair billowed around her, and through the water, her face was quite blue. She looked like a sweet angel. The squid thought so too.  
  
It had been a cold autumn, and for three months, the gentle giant had not eaten. Voletta seemed like a tasty morsel to the half-crazed animal. But, since it was so gentle and compassionate, it thought it would be kinder to let her die before chomping down and savoring the flavorful human flesh as it had not in more than a century.  
  
Voletta kicked and scratched and hit the colossal arm violently after realizing the thing had no intention of letting her go. She was quickly running out of breath, despite her amazing ability to retain oxygen, as observed earlier. It must have been due to her repressed panic and excess use of energy. Finally she could take it no longer. Great bubbles floated to the surface as all the air was released from her lungs; she gasped in great lungfuls of water. If death was the only possible ending to this expedition, Voletta wanted it over with as soon as possible.  
  
"Goodbye. I love you." she mouthed as darkness overtook her.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
From the castle window, Dumbledore sighed sadly. Had it been possible, he would have done something sooner, before the squid got to her. But the squid and he had a deal: Witches and wizards would not be endangered unless the squid was endangered by them, and vice versa. Since Professor Trelawney had forgotten to send down the squid's shipment of meat, it was starving, and had every right to eat anything it wanted. An idea popped into the wise man's head! He couldn't interfere directly, but if someone else knew.That's it! He'd tell Voletta's friends! But who were they? It seemed she had none, and really, no one would want to go into that lake, even to save their friends life. It seemed that the only choice was to observe.  
  
  
  
Peering into a mirror, enchanted to show anything currently happening, Albus was caught by surprise. After Voletta had finally stopped moving, the squid did not yet make a move to eat her. The headmaster realized that it was waiting for her to completely die. Just as it started to bring the limp form to it's mouth, her body shuddered tremendously, as though a great seizure was upon her! Bright, white light shone from her as though her body was merely a translucent container for it, and her back seemed to have three growing lumps underneath of it. It was a beautiful yet grotesque sight. Finally, the shifting things burst through her skin, and blood filled the water, making what were meant to be wings of the purest white red and purple, covered in a slimy, veined membrane which broke as the three wings stretched out; each one at least three times the height of their owner. A bright, silvery light shone from within the lake, as though a spotlight were being shot into the sky from beneath the water.  
  
All through Hogwarts, the buzzing of excited students filled the air, and dozens rushed to the shore to see the spectacle; they pondered the meaning of this uncanny light. Among them was Draco, Galatea, Sidhe, and the 'Dream Team.'  
  
  
  
Under the water, Voletta's three wings flapped gracefully, strong beats tearing her away from the squid. Its grip was too strong, and would have ripped her legs off had she not been the creature that she was. Rather, it trembled for a moment before it's tentacle ripped completely off, trailing bits of flesh, and hanging bone. She rose above the water, the arm relaxing and falling off just before she rose from the center of the lake. The crowd gasped in awe as the seraph floated above all of them, iridescent and shimmering. It looked as though she was suspended in the air by strings tied to her wings, held by the fingers of some gargantuan puppet master in the sky.  
  
Her mouth opened, and although no sound was heard, a deep, wise voice trembled the very foundations of the earth.  
  
" The past repeats itself as it should have been. The future is no longer." It said, and as a chameleon's tongue slips promptly into it's owner's mouth, the mesmerizing wings were crumpled and deflated, sucking themselves back into a human form. The entire glow disappeared, and the figure in the sky fell, leaving a pale, naked being floating face down on the grey-blue waters of the lake.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ooh. Well, this chapter was shorter than usual, but whatever. Whaddaya think? As always, lemme know, I'm starving for reviews! Oh, and I think the words were kinda corny, but hey, ya know, it gets the message across. Love y'all! 


	5. Sidhe Suave les Slytherins

*blinks* Are you an idiot or something?  
  
Well, no one reviewed my last chapter either, so here's a new one! Please, even if you leave as much as allowed blank, review! It lets me know how many people are reading this. If so few are, I might as well stop posting until enough people want to read it. Anyways, I know more people are reading than review, and that's a small comfort. I hope you like this.  
  
  
  
Sidhe Suave les Slytherins  
  
  
  
At approximately four o'clock in the afternoon, Harry realized he was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, with absolutely no idea what he had been doing for the past half hour. He was not the only one; nearly half the school was experiencing this strange blank spot. Tiny, vague pieces came to his mind, and he remembered some sort of beautiful, terrifying presence somewhere outside, but that was all he really knew. Sensibly, he reasoned that it must have been something really important, and the witnesses had had Memory charms placed on them; an unusually logical explanation.  
  
In the Slytherin commons, the same scenario was taking place. Galatea looked into the fire, glaring especially coldly, Draco repressed his temper with that unique, refined manner of his, Sidhe shrugged it off after an otherwise hilarious moment or two of apparent bewilderment. Voletta was nowhere to be found; it was later discovered that she was sleeping.  
  
Sidhe was bored. She had no schoolwork, no extra curricular activities, no one to hang out with.yet. 'That's the ticket!' she thought. 'I'll just make some new friends.Hmm.Interhouse relations seem a bit strained. I think those Gryffindors look interesting enough.' And off she set, determined to befriend her house's foes.  
  
Since Harry was obviously the most famous, intriguing, least likely candidate, he was the Celtic girl's first victim. Being clever as she was, she headed straight to the Quidditch pitch.  
  
Above her was a tiny figure on a broomstick, whizzing about rapidly. Apparently, she would have to get his attention. Sidhe's petite figure swelled as she took in a deep breath.  
  
"Oi! You up there! I wanna talk to you!" she shouted. The person in the air swerved, startled, and then dove straight at her. Of course, Harry intended to stop, but his broom's brakes were a little worn, and he would have impaled her through the chest had she not sensed her danger and, hair fanning back, telekinetically froze him in the air, millimeters away from her skin. Harry promptly fell off his broom.  
  
  
  
"Ow." He stated.  
  
  
  
"Sorry. Me name's Sidhe. Yours?" she replied, holding out her hand, with that friendly, broad grin of hers. Harry looked confused for a moment, before cautiously taking her hand.  
  
  
  
"Harry. Harry Potter. Nice to.meet you." And they did shake hands. And Sidhe said unto Harry:  
  
"Thou shalt not have prejudice against me for the nature of my house." And Harry did not have prejudice against her for the nature of her house...Yeah.  
  
Harry was very confused as Sidhe completely ignored his scar, and acted as though she had previously had no idea who he was. Which was partially true. She did know who he was, but only because everyone talked about him. She didn't know he was a celebrity, and she didn't know his story. Only as the most popular boy in Hogwarts did she know him, and for this Harry was grateful.  
  
"So my brother is magical too, but since he declined to go to Hogwarts so he could take care of my sister and myself, he's not really a wizard. Now my sister, she's another story. She's a little better than a squib! The reason you don't see her around is that she's so poor in magic that she's in the Special Ed. class. As a muggle, she's a genius, but her magic.it's abominable, and she has trouble understanding some of the concepts. See? What about your family?" Sidhe finished eagerly. Harry hesitated.  
  
  
  
"Er.Well.I live with my aunt and uncle, and their son Dudley. It's a place to stay, I guess, but I wish they'd hire a summer maid or something; I've got a life, you know!" he told her. She nodded, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, she took initiative.  
  
"Well, how come you don't live with your mum and dad?" asked the athletic girl.  
  
"They're dead." Harry said flatly. Sidhe frowned a little.  
  
"Oh. Sorry. How'd they die?" She asked, straightforward and genuine. Harry, it seemed, kept his emotions about the incident closer to the surface than he knew.  
  
"I.It's.You really don't know? I'm Harry-fucking-Potter, for chrissakes! You mean to say you honestly don't know about me? I'm the bloody Boy Who Lived! The celebrity! Scar Boy!" Apparently, Harry didn't believe for a second that she didn't know about him. Nodding, with a frown, Sidhe said,  
  
"It appears you have been holding this all in for a very long time, Harry. Would you like to lie down and talk about it?" was her clinical inquiry.  
  
"No! No I don't! It's just like you, a-a-a *Slytherin* to go so low as this! Asking about my sodding parents! You can bloody well go bugger off! And you want to know? I killed my parents! I did! If they had just left me and run away, they would be alive. They could have lived and had another kid just like me! See? I killed them! I'm the reason they're dead! I just wish.I wish it were me instead of them." He trailed off, angry tears shining his eyes. Sidhe was taken aback by this sudden outburst, but, as was her nature, she shrugged it off with a little humour. An unwise decision.  
  
" I see. And why do you think you feel that way, Harry?" asked Sidhe in the same professional manner as before. Harry took this to mean that Sidhe did not care for his woes, and promptly stormed away angrily.  
  
"Well that didn't go quite as well as expected. Right-O then! Next victim!" She said brightly, and walked off in search of suitable prey.er, friends. Next on the list was Hermione Granger. She was an easy target, as she was by far the most open-minded of the 'Dream Team.'  
  
In the library, Hermione sat poring over several heavy tomes, the pages yellowed with age. Behind her was a bookshelf, and through this bookshelf peered two mischievous, iridescent pale eyes. Iridescent, actually, was a very good way to describe Sidhe's eyes, as they shimmered in different colors, never the same way twice.  
  
Hermione started and looked up as a loud smack sounded when Sidhe dropped her own huge book on the table. She grinned warmly.  
  
  
  
"Hello. I hope you don't mind my studying here. I don't like the absence of civilization in the rest of the castle. What with Samhain so close, it's no wonder my entire house is off in Hogsmeade; looking for costumes no doubt. What brings you here this lovely Friday afternoon? I'm Sidhe, by the way. What's your name?" she stuck out her hand, as was her habit when meeting someone. Hermione blinked once, then smiled and shook Sidhe's warm, dry hand.  
  
"I'm Hermione Granger, pleasure to meet you. I figured I might as well do some background research on Muggle 'magick.' Interesting really, how they'll believe coincidence to be magical." Sidhe's friendly look dropped immediately. Magick was a sensitive subject for her, as she practiced Wicca.  
  
"I hardly think it's coincidence at all. I think that these Muggles who practice it have, for the most part, harnessed the power, the energy available to all of us. Just because they don't have an individual, completely self-contained source like us doesn't mean they aren't capable of magick. I believe that really, magick is more true than magic!" She paused for a moment. Hermione looked confused. Sidhe realized her mistake after a moment. "Magick with a 'k' at the end is a way of differentiating it from illusionary magic and wizardry. Of course, you can't really hear it so.I'll just call it Wicca, okay? Anyway! I mean, it you look at it, Wicca came long before any of our practices. Only when it was discovered that some of us were much more powerful than others, and didn't necessarily need to coincide with nature's cycles did wizardry and witchcraft separate. Soon after the distinction came these wizards denouncing the Magickal abilities of these so-called Muggles, and here we are today. I know Muggle Wiccans who are more adept than professors at this school! You'd better take all this into consideration. When you do, you'll have a much clearer view on things" A pause ". .Umm.Sorry about that outburst. I get a little upset with people disparaging Wicca and related belief systems." Silence. Hermione cleared her throat after a moment of thought.  
  
"Well, I suppose if you look at it that way. I bet Professor Binns would give me an extra high score if I added something about.Er.How do I put it. You know, Wiccan Witches. Like our kind that still practice the old way? Well.I dunno how to put it. But I think that is a valid point." said the bushy-haired girl. Sidhe finally allowed a smile.  
  
"Good idea. Say, you're doing the advanced HoM too? I thought only Draco and myself were doing that. We finished our papers the first night. It was a little difficult to edit them; we cut out nearly half of our papers to make it within a yard of the requirement. Er.A meter.or whatever.something like that." said Sidhe. "I'm sorry, I transferred here from the Salem Witch's Institute in America. I've picked up a lot of Brit slang though, and I've only been here for a month! I grew up in Seattle; my grandparents immigrated from Ireland. I'm only here because my older brother though it would be better if I went to Hogwarts, since it's ratings are the best in (That one book about schools Hem was reading in GoF). Say, have you ever been to the States? It's great fun. If I go home on the holidays, you should come with me and see the sights! Oh, the International district in Seattle is so much fun! There's this Japanese restaurant that's just lovely! The miso soup is the best I've ever had. Then there's this huge Asian supermarket called Uwajimaya, and they've got some really cool stuff. Within Uwajimaya, though, is the best part: The bookstore! It's Kinokuniya, and it's a chain. I went to one in San Francisco. They sell all sorts of books in several languages, including English! I love it there. I bought some manga there. Manga's Japanese comics, you know. I love the stuff. Oh, and they've got some anime videos and books called How to Draw Manga; it's a brilliant series, although I daresay I hardly need them. And the art supplies! They've got tones and erasers and pencils and lead and Copics! Oh, Copics are the best! I doubt I could live with out them. Yes, there was an anime convention a couple years back and I remember drawing something for a fan art contest." Sidhe went on and on, and although really most of it was about her home and family and not much else, Hermione found herself very interested in the American's life, and listened quietly.  
  
After a bit more than twenty minutes of this monologue, Sidhe paused and said, "So, what about you, Hermione?" and somehow Hermione found enough words to go on just as Sidhe had. Soon after, Ron and Harry wandered into the library to see them laughing together. Sidhe had just finished telling her the story of her little sister's third birthday. It had been a wonderfully disastrous event. With their amazing skills of multi-tasking, they also managed to finish Hermione's essay, and Sidhe had done a three- foot extra credit essay for transfiguration, her worst subject.  
  
Harry stopped abruptly upon sighting the two girls. He filled with anger once more at her 'callous treatment' as he had said to Ron.  
  
"That's her. The Slytherin I was telling you about. They're really all the same, I'm telling you. Might seem different but they're all just out to hurt anyone they can! I know it! I know!" Harry grew more and more agitated, and Ron grew more and more concerned for his friend, until finally red snaps of anger shone before his eyes and he launched himself at Sidhe.  
  
Hermione giggled, then looked behind Sidhe just in time to see the seething Ron come at Sidhe.  
  
"Sidhe! Look out!" She cried. Sidhe smiled serenely.  
  
"I know." said she. Ron seemed to smack into an invisible wall when he was within an arm's length of Sidhe, who turned around quite slowly to look at Ron as though she were quite surprised.  
  
" Well, hello. What seems to be the matter, Ronald Weasley?" said Sidhe amicably. He snarled and once more dove forward, hands out, ready to throttle the girl. Luckily, it seemed for Ron, Sidhe had taken down her shield. However, she had other plans. Grabbing Hermione and Harry, Sidhe shut her eyes and blocked out Ron's tight grasp around her throat to concentrate on the Quidditch pitch. When they suddenly appeared there, Hermione gasped, Harry scowled, and Ron nearly didn't notice.  
  
Sidhe grasped Ron's wrists and quickly flipped him over onto his back before leaping away and crouching in a fighting position. The redhead scrambled to his feet and put his fists up. Smirking, Sidhe gestured for him to attack. He did, coming at her with swinging fist. She remained with that serene look on her face and swiftly ducked down to kick Ron's feet from under him. Lacking her technical skill, Ron fell on his back, rather than springing off the ground, as a more advanced fighter would have. Now Ron spat insults at her.  
  
"You Slytherin bitch! How dare you ask Harry about that! I bet you're one of them! You're like-You're like Draco and his bloody father! You're probably a death eater! Why I wouldn't be surprised if you were Voldemort's little whore, you wench! It's not even-" He yelped like a puppy before falling once more to the ground, unconscious. Sidhe had punched him square in the face, enraged by Ron's accusations and assumptions about herself and Draco. Really, she couldn't stand prejudices based on one's roots. It was not family history or house or even past mistakes that mattered. It only mattered that you were different. If you truly were a different person, then people had no right to assume what you're like, or what your actions would be.  
  
"Don't think I'm a Death Eater for my relations to Voldemort, I'm not getting paid either, so don't call me a whore. I prefer the term slut. And DO NOT under ANY circumstances blame Draco for his father's actions!" It looked like Ron had really gotten under Sidhe's skin.  
  
Harry and Hermione were shocked. Never in a million years would they have imagined a pretty sixteen-year-old girl actually inviting the Dark Lord himself into her bed. Secretly Harry thought that it was not her choice at all, and felt pity for her, but Hermione felt that Sidhe had a right to sleep with whomever she wanted, even if it was the most horrible, evil person the world had ever seen. Also, she thought back to the train, with Mirabelle. Hadn't she said not to blame Draco for what his father's done to him? It appeared that Lucius Malfoy had a lot of 'splainin' to do.  
  
Later that evening, Harry and Sidhe had made up, and Hermione was pondering silently. Suddenly, she looked and Sidhe and asked,  
  
"Why would you sleep with someone as ugly as Voldemort?" and immediately cringed, wishing she hadn't asked that, for fear of her life. Or something. Instead, Sidhe looked thoughtful for a moment, looking across the dark lawn of the castle.  
  
"He isn't Voldemort when we're together. I hate Voldemort. No, my love is for Tom Riddle. He's very handsome, much like Harry here, actually. They could be related, except for Tom's cream white skin and strange, cedar eyes. They're nearly red, you know. He's very nice to me, and rarely speaks ill of anyone. He's a loving boy, and I think that had it not been for.um.. stuff, he could have been the greatest man the world has ever known, another Albus Dumbledore or James Potter! Harry, Hermione, he feels dreadful about what he does as Voldemort, but he cannot help it. It's as though.something is controlling him. But he told me it's not like Imperius, oh no. He's perfectly aware of everything. He knows exactly what he wants to say and do, and every sensation is perfectly clear, but he cannot make himself do what he wants; he cannot be what he wants to when he's like that. I've seen him struggle against whatever's got him, and you can hardly tell, but his eyes flicker. The very color changes! I met him when he was allowed to be just Tom, and I do love him, truly, with all my heart and soul. And besides," Sidhe said with a smirk, "You should see him in bed. He's incredible!" And they laughed, and ate Pocky, and had a good time.  
  
And in a window, far above them, there was a pair of dangerous cold blue eyes glaring down, before their owner turned, and, with a flash of blonde hair, disappeared into the dungeons.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ha ha! Oh, and Sidhe did save the Slytherins! But, you have to figure out how! Anyways, I had fun with this chapter. And yes, I will get back to Draco, and he and Harry will get together eventually. I'm working on it! PLEASE REVIEW!*sniff* I'm pathetic, I know. 


	6. Note de l'Auteur

Hey, y'all. This isn't a chapter; I just wanted to let anyone who's actually reading my fic that all my writing got erased, so it's gonna be a while before I update. *sniff* It's not fair!!! Oh well. Expect something in a couple weeks, but I might just get some inspiration with reviews (hint hint)  
  
Thanks to all who reviewed, especially Little Goth Dress, because you reviewed a lot. I'd like to read some of your work, if you have any.  
  
I had about till chapter.. thirteen on Mirabelle Après finished, but it's all gone now. I also fixed the paragraphs on Tonight, Tonight (or did I call it Believe in me? I don't remember.) but it was all for naught, including the other HP fic I had going and the outline for the awesomely spectacular ending to Mirabelle. Well, I guess I'd better get started on something, so be patient, and review if you haven't. *grin* .Yeah 


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